There's nothing to walking into the office. It's the same as any other. You walk in, tell them your name, your doctors name and then you're seated. For days before you get there you're thinking about it. You're dreading it. You're even considering cancelling and never going back but you know that for as much as you'd like to it would be a mistake of huge proportions.
You sit there trying your best to be casual when you realize that God has answered your prayers and you're not afraid. But who among you is? There's the woman who sits at an angle behind you. She is frail to the extreme that you can see what has to be every bone in her hand. Her clothes hang loosely from her thin body and her skin is noticeably yellow. You don't want to believe that she may have it in her liver. You fight back tears for this woman and sink your entire face in a magazine. Everyone in the waiting room is quiet. Is everyone fearful?
You look up as someone new comes into the room and sits with her husband. On his lap are two folders full of medical information. You know what's in the folders because you had one of your own that you threw in the trash. It reminded you of bad days. How sick is she? Their conversation is muffled but you see him smile and you hear her giggle. It's her turn next and as she gets up to go into the next room you notice that his expression changes and he drops his head. Is he praying? A mother is leaving and her daughter is helping her with her coat. This simple task done everyday this time of year is a major undertaking for the elderly lady and the expression on her daughters face is one of weariness and worry.
You hear someone come to sit close to you. She's wearing a turban and she, like you, buries her face in a magazine. Has she learned yet that her beauty is not in her hair?
Tears begin to threaten to spill over onto your cheeks and from there you know it will be sobs so you cut it short and wipe your face behind your magazine. You want to scream "Why God"? but instead you whisper the same prayer you do every time you go to the oncologists office.

Dear God,
Let me take the fear these people around me are carrying with them each day. I have You to help me carry the burden. I have You to give me strength. Through You I can take it all. Please don't let them worry.
Amen

God has a plan for everyone. You don't question it. You just wake up everyday and you're grateful for things that never even crossed your mind before you set foot in that office.